Civility
by Rhiannon B
Summary: A oneshot ficlet about the first meeting between Thierry and Hannah in a previous life. Set in turnofthecentury Quebec. Happy Birthday, Soraia.


Title: Civility 

Author: Rhiannon

Spoilers: Spoilers for Soulmate.

Rating: G

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to the mighty goddess L.J. Smith.

Synopsis: A one-shot ficlet about the first meeting between Thierry and Hannah in a previous life. Set in turn-of-the-century Quebec. A slightly belated birthday present for my writing buddy, Soraia. This started out as a drabble but... Well, I tend to go on. I'm just impressed that I managed to keep it under a thousand words.

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_We slowly drove, he knew no haste,_

_And I had put away_

_My labor, and my leisure too,_

_For his civility._

- Emily Dickinson, 'Because I Could Not Stop for Death'.

Annette lifted her skirts and stepped carefully over a puddle as she exited the shop, shuddering when one of her petticoats dragged through the water and slapped wetly against her stocking-clad leg. It had been raining for the past two days, and showed no sign of letting up any time soon. It was going to be a very wet April.

She clutched the bag containing her purchases to her chest in a vain attempt to keep them dry, and nearly sighed with relief when she saw that there was already a horse drawn hansom-cab waiting outside, the difference between a nice dry ride home and a soggy walk.

She jerked the door open, but stopped and started to back away when she saw that the cab was already occupied. "I'm sorry, I..."

"Wait," the man murmured, holding out a hand to forestall her flight, "Which way are you headed?"

His voice was strangely accented, but that wasn't too odd in a city of this size. She hesitated a moment, but his dark eyes were kind... And maybe a little sad.

"Two streets down, that way," she replied, gesturing vaguely. He smiled in response, and she thought it was the most wonderful thing she had ever seen.

"I'm going that way myself," he said, "Perhaps you would care to share the ride with me?"

She nodded mutely, and he helped her into the cab, settling both her and her package on the seat opposite him. She gave her address to the driver, and they were off.

They sat quietly for a time, and she took the opportunity to study him. He was quite young, with neatly cut blonde hair and simply cut but obviously well-made clothing, showing that he was at the very least fairly well-off. Those sad eyes caught her again, and she felt heat rise to her face when she realized that he was scrutinizing her in much the same way.

Uncomfortable, she broke the silence. "I am Annette."

He smiled a little once more, with a warmth that made her blush again without really knowing why. "A pleasure."

"And you are?," she prompted, knowing it was rude but unable to let the silence return.

He looked surprised, as though he hadn't expected the question, and the pause before he answered was long enough that she began to think he wouldn't.

"Thierry," he said, after a moment, "I go by Thierry."

Annette smiled at him, and then frowned, confused, as the expression on his face became almost stricken. It tugged at something in her chest, and she opened her mouth to ask what was wrong, but the stricken look was gone as quickly as it came. "It's very nice to meet you, Mr. Thierry," she murmured instead.

He chuckled in response, a surprising, yet pleasing sound. "Just Thierry. Please."

She nodded once in acceptance, and studied him once again. Something tugged at her memory, but escaped as soon as she grasped after it, like a dream half remembered. "Have we met before?," she asked uncertainly.

He shook his head even as that odd sadness that seemed to linger around him deepened. "No. You and I have not met before, Annette." He smiled, and his tone lightened a little. "Surely I would remember, if we had."

The cab pulled to a stop, and she glanced outside, spotting the home she shared with her father through the rain. It looked snug and welcoming, the windows glowing warm and golden against the dreary day outside. All the same, she found that she didn't want to step out of the hansom, didn't want to leave this somehow familiar stranger who moved her in a way that no one else ever had.

Her gaze met his, and her breath caught in her throat. She didn't understand what she saw there, didnt understand the weight of emotion that filled his eyes, but it both scared and thrilled her. He reached out a hand, as though he was going to touch her face, but let it fall before it reached its goal. His voice was low and serious.

"May I call on you, Annette? Tomorrow?"

She let out the breath she had been holding, slowly. She shouldn't allow this. He was a stranger, she knew nothing about him, and the emotions he invoked in her... Well, it just wasn't proper. But the thought of _not_ seeing him again...

"Yes," she said, her own voice a little thick as the forced the words out, "Yes, you may."

He smiled again, and she fled the cab, hurrying up the steps in front of the house. The rain felt blessedly cool against her now-flushed skin, and she tipped her head back, just enjoying it for a moment before stepping inside and closing the door behind her.


End file.
